Towards the Future
by ManonLeChat
Summary: Danger and heartache don't end as you grow older. A sequel to my fic "Leaving the Past," a Rin and Sesshoumaru story. Drama, angst, and love, with humour and adventure to come. I strive to keep everyone in character-
1. Prologue

Author's Note – _I'm back! Thanks to all those who patiently kept my name on your author alert lists, and I sincerely hope that I won't disappoint. This story is a sequel to my fic "Leaving the Past" and I highly recommend that new readers begin with that first installment (check under my profile for the link). My new fiction will continue Rin and Sesshoumaru's storyline, however, while mapping out the narrative I realized that I would also be focusing on the second generation of the Inu-brothers, and therefore a few original characters of my own making. I hope that this will not turn anyone away – Don't fear, there will still be plenty of Rin and Sesshoumaru, with Inuyasha, Kagome, and other familiar faces. A word to the manga-followers: It appears that Takahashi is wrapping things up, and the outcome of her story may affect the plans I have for this one (a problem which I'll deal with when I come to it). I'll try to keep the updates coming quickly! As always, your comments – even the smallest, whether critical, complimentary, or somewhere in between – are deeply appreciated._

Prologue

Rin was in pain.

He could smell her fear, exhaustion, and now the faint hints of her blood edging the cold winter air. Rin was never one to make a fuss. Through the light wood and paper screens his keen ears picked up half-stifled groans and sobs, and he knew, that for his sake, she was biting back screams.

Carefully maintaining a stoic calm, Sesshoumaru turned his eyes away from the source of the muffled sounds, and silently, deliberately, moved away from them, down the corridor leading to the inner courtyard. In Spring the open passage would have led to the garden, tonight he inhaled the sharp pure air and stared at the crescent moon through the thin shower of falling snow. Normally such a moon would not have provided much light, but tonight its feeble beams reflected upon the snow and ice, glazing the courtyard with a white and silver cast that matched the clothing, hair, and pale skin of the demon lord who stood there.

He waited a quarter of an hour. Eventually one of the older midwives appeared, shuffling towards him with a small bundle in her arms. Her ashen face, her entire body and its movements betrayed a deep apprehension.

"The lady is asleep now," she said in a nervous voice, strained by a false note of cheerfulness. She avoided the eyes of the demon before her. The demon markings on his cheeks and forehead terrified her almost as much as his cold, detached expression. The rest of her words failed her.

"The child is deformed?" he asked, in a quiet tone that she knew demanded an immediate response.

With shaky hands she opened the swaddling blankets and raised the newborn for its father to inspect.

Rin had given birth to a son, and its hanyou nature was immediately apparent. The infant was half-dog. Its limbs were human-shaped to the knees, where they tapered into canine forelegs and paws. A damp feeble tail was curled tightly against its body. Fine white hair covered its forearms, chest, and lower legs. The infant was tiny, weak-looking and grey beneath its reddish-newborn skin. It shivered in the cold air, its eyes still shut from its recent, exhausting ordeal.

"Go. Leave the child."

For a moment the old woman hesitated, her eyes growing wide. But fear quickly overcame reluctance, she pushed the bundle into Sesshoumaru's chest and stumbled as she bowed, respectfully walking backwards for a few paces before she turned and fled. The silence returned.

Sesshoumaru's attention was caught by a noise at the opposite end of the hallway, and raised his eyes in time to see a small figure retreat into the shadows. His daughter. Emi had been put to bed when Rin had gone into labor, and commanded by Jaken to sleep until the morning. _No doubt she had disobeyed immediately_. Their oldest child had been a girl, but everything that either parent could have hoped for. In contrast to the hanyou he held now, she had been remarkably normal – human in form, with unnaturally clear and pale skin. Later, unexpectedly and to Sesshoumaru's great satisfaction, she had begun to exhibit far greater strength, speed and agility than any human child. She would surpass many full-blooded youkai someday. Though he rarely expressed such things, he was deeply, fiercely proud of her.

And at five years old, she was already proving to be startling perceptive. _What did she comprehend, and how much did she merely sense?_ He narrowed his eyes in an unspoken command. In the darkness two tiny golden eyes stared back at him for a moment -- a pause not overtly defiant, but not entirely obedient. Then they blinked, and her form disappeared from the passageway. He listened for the quiet, quick patter of her feet as she made her way back to her chamber.

Quietly and without looking at the bundle he carried in his arm, Sesshoumaru stepped into the courtyard, the snow crunching beneath his boots.

It was not unusual for a demon child to be born with the characteristics of its true form. As the child grew older, if he was powerful and practiced enough, he would learn to transform. But not for a hanyou. This child's form would be permanent. He would be despised by demon and human alike. He was sickly and small, a runt. It would not be easy for him to defend himself. A swift death would be more merciful in the end.

The child puckered its face and began to cry.

_You are wise_ thought Sesshoumaru. _You sense the danger you are in._

It was beneath him to lie. He would have to inform Rin of what had become of their child. He imagined her now at this moment. Exhausted and asleep, not realizing that her baby was not with her, too weakened to worry or dream. Lying in a room where the air was soaked with the smell of her own blood, where the air was filled with the stupid whispers of the human midwives as they hurried to clean and finish their duties so they could leave. Whispers that rose and fell on words like "monster" and "evil", and the "unholy woman" who bedded a demon. Anger flooded through him for a heartbeat, bleeding his eyes crimson. **_No_**To kill the child would break the heart of the mother, and that was unacceptable.

He studied the infant more closely. A soft silver-white down covered its head. Tiny blunted claws – he would need those. Frozen bits of snow continued to fall on the small red face. The child opened its weak newborn eyes as it gasped and prepared to wail again. Tiny golden eyes, the eyes of a demon. His eyes, Chichi-ue's eyes. But framed by the long black lashes of his human mother.

At least, he thought, at least the child did not have those_ ridiculous_ ears like Inuyasha.

He bent his face to the small whimpering one, pausing to inhale and commit his scent to memory. A scent both human and demon, and faintly reminiscent of Rin's.

"Be still, little one," said Sesshoumaru softly. "Your father is a great and powerful demon. You are Kichiro, my son. There is nothing to fear."

Sesshoumaru carried the infant back into the warmth of the house.


	2. Chapter One

Author's Note – _Thank__ you all for your very generous reviews! I'm glad people weren't turned off by the cooler, more dangerous Sesshoumaru last chapter (his character is continuing to soften, but you don't get a name like "killing life circle" for nothing). To answer a few questions, yes, you're going to see Inu, Kagome, and their offspring and, yes, Sesshoumaru and Rin's son does somewhat resemble Shippo (so things aren't quite as bad as our Fluffy chose to see it). I should be able to update much sooner next time. Happy Holidays!_

Chapter One

_Too late, he saw his opponent's long sword flash against the sky, coming down with a throbbing swipe, severing his right wrist. Toukijin hit the ground with a metallic thud. _

_Rin screamed his name in horror. She grasped him about the waist, sobbing and shaking uncontrollably, burying her face into his back. _

_With a numb sense of shock, Sesshoumaru pressed the bleeding stub where his hand had been under the remains of his missing left arm, lost long ago in the battle with Inuyasha in their father's tomb. _

_**It was over. They were both going to die**. He knew that now. His opponent stepped backward and pulled off his helmet, laughing scornfully. _

_Sesshoumaru's mouth curled back in an animalistic snarl._

_**They would die, but damned if he would die defeated. **_

_His eyes snapped red with blood and his ragged breaths became a growl. Blue and purple swirls of demonic energy built around him as he began to transform. He would crush his enemies with the weight of his true canine form, he would use his last dying breath to flood this battlefield with melting, poisonous fumes. _

_His face began to elongate into angry, snapping jaws. Rin was still clinging to him, coughing and crying out words that he couldn't make out over the circling roar of the winds._

_He would never allow her to be put to a cruel death under a taunting enemy's knife. They would die together. The children were safe, their children would survive. _

_He suddenly halted in the midst of his transformation, his breath stopped in panic. _

_**Where were the children??**_

Sesshoumaru's eyes flew open as he woke with a start. The vividness of the dream was slow to fade, and he realized with disgust that his fingers had automatically reached for the hilt of his sword. He stood up from the tree he had been resting his back against, and looked around warily. The glade was quiet, no unusual sounds or presences in the night. He began to feel foolish, far too old to be frightened out of his sleep like a fretful child.

"How boring," he said dismissively aloud. It did not make him feel better.

Sesshoumaru looked up at the starry sky irritably, trying to gauge how long he had been asleep. He didn't believe in omens. Omens and superstitions were for the fearful and weak. One made one's own way in the world, and in his case, fought for it. But the dream had left him undeniably uneasy. Perhaps he had been away too long. He had left his house a month ago, in order to make the rounds of the surrounding territories that he considered his domain. Not every youkai had required driving out. Those that posed no threat were left in peace. But he found that a habitual reappearance from time to time served as a useful reminder of his presence, and subsequently, their deference.

When he had first re-established himself in this province, few demons had been obliging enough to respect his claims of authority, merely on the basis that his father had once commanded them. His father may have paved the way, but Sesshoumaru had had to vigilantly protect and occasionally do battle to preserve his territory – quite literally with tooth and nail. Even as he became an older and stronger demon, new uncertainties and nagging concerns had presented themselves. More and more he felt he understood his father better. He was no longer motivated by the thrill of proving himself more and more powerful for power's sake, as he had been when he was younger. Now his actions and movements were usually undertaken out of a desire to protect, even when it came to protecting himself for the sakes of the others that depended on him -- Rin, their daughter and son.

And the latest hindrance to his peace of mind was Gaikkumaru. The young moth youkai leader was too wise to confront Sesshoumaru openly, and had established his colony just far away enough to be considered respectfully distant, yet Sesshoumaru was not deceived from his true ambitions. Unlike his own dog tribe, the moths bred quickly, reproducing their warriors within a generation or two. His mouth curled in distaste. No doubt the eight moth-demons who had "casually" encountered him as he journeyed alone had been sent to probe his watchfulness and strength. Sesshoumaru received a small grim satisfaction in knowing that the tale the one (significantly maimed) survivor would tell his lord would keep Gaikkumaru at bay for a while yet.

His patrols should have taken another week, but he suddenly found that his desire was to return home, immediately. Tonight. He wouldn't bother waiting for morning. He lifted into the air and passed swiftly toward the west, gliding weightlessly over forests of pine, rocky crags, and the twisted ropes of long rivers, grey and quiet in the moonlight, their waters softly reflecting his own shimmering and pale demonic light.

It was well after midnight when he arrived at the home that had once belonged to his father, now his. Most of the building was blanketed in shadows, the occupants already asleep. Sesshoumaru took very few servants, but one sentry stood watchfully by flickering torchlight. He bowed low and respectfully as Sesshoumaru landed on the stones of the front courtyard.

"Lady Rin and Master Jaken are still awake, my lord," the sentry murmured.

His footsteps echoed softly on the floorboards of the dark corridor. Rin and Jaken were in one of the inner rooms of the house, lit by a couple small lamps that reflected against the soft wood paneling. They were seated on the floor together, both looking up in surprise as the figure entered the room.

"Lord Sesshoumaru!" Jaken cried enthusiastically, dropping a teacup and springing to his feet before falling prostrate and groveling on the floor. "You're back early, my lord!"

"All is well?" he asked quietly.

Rin nodded, her wide eyes shining. Jaken launched into an excited, self-important account of the household's doings over the past weeks.

Sesshoumaru cast his eyes over Rin. She looked well, healthy. The autumn air had turned chillier since his departure, and she wore a heavier robe of orange with gold chrysanthemums. The rich material cast a warm glow on her cheeks, already flushed. She was still in the prime of her human life, but Rin's face tonight reminded Sesshoumaru more of the eager, younger woman she had been when he first brought her back to live with him over a decade ago. She had become a mother since then, grown more patient and measured. Yet some aspects had never changed – Rin was still inexplicably selfless, trusting and giving, and completely devoted to him. And, as he noted with amusement, she was a terrible failure at hiding her true feelings. Despite her attempts at propriety, her whole being was infused with an obvious, quivering joy. He could tell that she was brimming with questions, stories that she would want to share, emotions that she wanted to express.

His father's human lover (Inuyasha's mother, he thought with a fleeting moment of distaste) had been an aristocrat, with manners and breeding. Rin, by contrast, was the daughter of peasants. When he had finally come to the utterly astounding realization that it was her, and no one else, that he wanted as his mate and companion he had barely reflected on her social background. Her humanity had been the hardest obstacle to overcome. Once he had accepted that, human social distinctions meant little. And to be fair, when she was a child traveling with him he had never given a consideration towards planning her more formal education. Even making Jaken teach the girl to read had been more an afterthought. As a result, Rin had never learnt the politer forms of reserve that any well-bred female – human or youkai – would have exhibited.

And tonight, as usual, he found he didn't care.

Jaken was obliviously prattling onward.

"…A family of badger demons has taken to living in the south forest under the mountain. I TOLD them that they were closer than the Lord Sesshoumaru allowed but they refused to listen to me and now that you're back you can teach them a lesson about—"

"Jaken," he said firmly.

"Yes, my Lord?" The toad demon's bulging eyes blinked twice.

"You may go."

The little imp was too confused to be offended.

"Good night, Jaken," Rin added cheerfully and kindly.

Jaken peered at her suspiciously, and then again at Sesshoumaru. Comprehension finally dawned, along with sullen resignation. With the suffering air of a martyr he crossed the room, grumbling just loud enough to be heard.

Rin waited demurely as possible as Jaken carefully slid the screen doors shut behind him. She raised her eyes, caught her husband looking at her, and laughed out loud. She joyfully threw both arms around her husband's neck then paused.

"I missed you," she said soberly, looking up at him with her wide, brown, human eyes.

As Rin affectionately pulled her fingers through his hair, Sesshoumaru felt the tension in his muscles finally begin to unknot. He cupped her cheek with his palm, brushing his thumb along the soft flesh, and allowed his mouth to soften into the small private smile he reserved for moments like these. For the first time since he had woken suddenly a few hours before, he felt soothed, and at peace.

_New Chapter to Appear Soon_


	3. Chapter Two

Author's Note – _After a lengthy break, I'm back. Thank you all so much for the feedback left last chapter! Most of this chapter was written in January, but for some reason it took a particularly long time to tweak (I'm still not too happy with it -- Let me know your thoughts). I apologize for the delay, and I hope that subsequent chapters will be quicker in coming (I can't promise that they will, but I DO promise that I won't leave the story unfinished). One Japanese term here, for those who may not have heard it before. "Chichi-ue" is an old-fashioned, extremely respectful way of referring to one's father. In the Inuyasha anime and manga, it is how Sesshoumaru always refers to his (and Inuyasha's) father. When Emi or Kichiro use it they are referring to Sesshoumaru. Some of you have left some questions in your reviews, which I'm going to answer soon (check my profile/biography). For the moment, to answer puppet-cat, creo que Kichiro tiene seis o siete años ahora. Finally, an extra special thank you to BrownRecluse who is both a) a wildly imaginative and talented writer that I admire greatly and b) the author of my only review on mediaminer. **(Thank you, BR!)**_

Chapter Two

Kichiro rounded the outer passageway into the courtyard and stopped, bouncing on his hind paws with excitement.

"Jaken-sama says Father came home last night!"

The small half-demon struggled to catch his breath and pushed stray white bangs out of his eyes.

The eyes of the slim girl standing a few paces away from him in the center of the courtyard were not focused on him, and they did not flicker at his arrival. The girl was dressed in a simple but neat white blouse and trousers, her shiny black hair plaited in a long braid down her back. She held one arm extended with a rod of bamboo diagonal and motionless before her.

Kichiro waited impatiently.

In a quiet, swift stroke the bamboo broke the stillness and sliced upwards. The rod slashed down, right and left, in two more attacking motions before returning to the tense stillness of its original position. The girl held it there for a moment, and took a deep breath, her face relaxing into a fleeting, self-satisfied smile.

"Yes, I know," Emi answered, resting the tip of her practice stick against the ground. "Why do you call him that, 'Jaken-sama'?"

She wasn't looking at him directly, but Kichiro caught the hint of annoyance in her voice.

"He likes it. Mother calls him that too when Father isn't around."

"It isn't appropriate," Emi replied, frowning and swinging the bamboo around in a relaxed parabolic arc, "Jaken will never respect you if you pretend that your position isn't higher than his." For the first time since he had burst outdoors she was paying attention to him. Her nose screwed up a little. "Don't wag your tail so much, it isn't dignified."

Kichiro didn't respond, hoping she wouldn't press the subject. Emi was right, of course, Emi was practically _always_ right. Jaken liked to bully and lecture him sometimes, but there was never any malice in it and he liked making the old toad happy. Jaken rarely – if EVER – tried to bully his sister. He suspected the family servant was a little afraid of Emi.

"Should we go and see Father now?" he asked instead, his initial enthusiasm undampened.

"No."

"Why not?"

"He's with Mother right now."

"So?"

"It isn't appropriate," she stated with finality.

Reluctantly, Kichiro dropped down to sit on a wooden step and rested his chin glumly against his hand. Normally he liked watching Emi practice. Each of her movements was swift and controlled, her attacks and defenses graceful and smooth, not prone to choppiness like his. Her heavy braid swung like a pendulum behind her.

Kichiro sighed loudly, breaking Emi's concentration and earning a dirty look in return.

"Sorry," he apologized hastily.

Emi resisted an urge to roll her eyes and instead let her mind go calm and still. She took a deep breath and coolly lifted the practice stick.

Sesshoumaru watched bemused as Rin paced around the garden, studiously selecting which of the thinning autumn flowers she would cut in honor of his return. She took an inexplicable pleasure in picking flowers – whether for him, their children, or, even occasionally, Jaken and Ah-Un. For some reason he tried to picture his own youkai mother picking flowers – the image wouldn't form. She had carefully reared and protected her child, but it would never have occurred to her to do something so unnecessary as to cut flowers for it. _His mother had never also hummed silly nonsense verse to her offspring, had never chattered on to his father about childhood bumps and scrapes._ Sesshoumaru watched Rin as she moved about the orange chrysanthemums. She was still sleepy from the night before, and her movements had a slow, dream-like grace. He imagined his parents together. His mother would never have picked flowers for his father, either. It was something the human woman – Izayoi – would have done.

More attuned to his moods than he realized, Rin watched the shadow pass across his face.

"What is it?" she asked him.

"Nothing."

She didn't press him, and his jaw softened again. He loved her (for many reasons that had taken him years to admit) – and this was one of them. She always knew when to withdraw, to give him space when he required it.

He passed along the perimeter of the garden. Yes, he liked Rin the way she was – humming and bothering with flowers that would begin to wilt shortly afterwards, being warm, open and unworried. Devoted and caring to everyone – especially him. _It was her role, it was the way he preferred things._ He breathed the air deeply, and sharpened his senses against the morning's smells, sights and sounds. That was Rin's role, _and it was his role_, he thought as he caught the head of serpent, its forked tongue hissing from behind a stone at the border of the footpath. _It was his role to destroy anything that threatened that existence._

His wrist flicked and a thin whip of demonic energy snapped forward, reducing the serpent to dust.

Satisfied, Sesshoumaru turned and walked towards the courtyard.

"Welcome home, Chichi-ue," Emi and Kichiro chimed in unison, bowing their heads.

Kichiro fought hard to keep his tail respectfully still.

Sesshoumaru acknowledged them both with accustomed restraint. Like he had with Rin the night before he silently took measure of them.

"Mother!" Kichiro called cheerfully, smiling and raising his face to her.

"Good Morning," Rin answered. She kissed her son on the forehead.

"You have been practicing?" Sesshoumaru asked his daughter.

"Yes, Chichi-ue."

"Show me."

It was clear from the eager look on Emi's face that there was nothing she would like to do more.

Rin knelt on the stones, spreading her heavy silk sleeves out as cushioning and opening her arms for her younger child to join her. Nestled in his mother's arms, Kichiro watched in blissful adoration as Emi's stick crossed against his Father's and they began to move, the sharp hollow whacks of the bamboo reverberating around the courtyard. Emi was practically perfect, but no one was stronger, no one was faster, no one was greater than his father. _Doubly great – because even with one arm, no human, no hanyou and no youkai could be mightier or deadlier than Chichi-ue._ In his all-encompassing admiration, the question of HOW someone as invincible as Chichi-ue could have lost an arm in the first place had never occurred to him.

Emi dropped and swiped, forcing Sesshoumaru to leap backward. She anticipated his step and threw all her power into a one-handed upward cut, narrowly missing the fluttering tail of his sleeve. A bold move, but leaving her defenses open. Sesshoumaru landed with his rod cracking loudly against hers, pinning her weapon to the ground. With swift precision before she could recover, he held the end of the stick against the juncture of her neck and shoulder.

He stepped back.

"Well done," he said.

"Thank you, Father," she answered, bowing her head and breathing heavily. Except for the evidence of exertion, she kept her voice neutral. But she couldn't hide a slight timbre of self-pleased pride. Their simple exchange didn't fool either of them. They both knew that she had been excellent, that she had nearly tagged him twice. _He really ought to warn her against feeling too triumphant _Sesshoumaru thought reluctantly. Overconfidence could lead to costly mistakes – a lesson that he had learnt painfully. But Emi had just shown herself to be quicker and more skilled than many full-blood youkai, and he ruefully recognized his own proud sense of triumph at her accomplishment. Against his better judgment, he decided to postpone that lesson for another day.

Without turning around, Sesshoumaru called his son's name.

Rin tucked some hair behind his ear, and Kichiro apprehensively rose to his feet. He had practiced dutifully himself, but not nearly with the relish and devotion that his sister had. They began, and he tried to concentrate on his attacks. He could tell that Emi was holding back, but soon he had fallen into to defensive parrying, and with a sense of anxious dread he felt his concentration slipping. It wasn't just that Emi was older, and stronger, and took more relish in the activity. She was simply better at this than he was, and it showed.

He made a wild swing against her midsection.

Emi was slow to respond, and his bamboo rapped against her knuckles. She dropped her rod with a clatter to the ground. Kichiro froze, and looked up toward his father.

Sesshoumaru was watching both of them in stony silence.

"You were very fortunate. Next time your opponent may not be so obliging," he finally said.

He turned and left them.

"Why did you have to let me win?" Kichiro demanded, later after Rin had also gone.

"Well, next time I won't," Emi spat back sulkily. They were both quiet for a moment, then Emi stepped over to where the bamboo had fallen and picked it up. She offered it to him.

"Here," she said more sympathetically.

"Not right now," Kichiro answered. The anger had faded from his voice, leaving it dull. "I'm going to go feed Ah-Un."

Sesshoumaru was already there, sitting white and motionless in the rich gloom of the shadows, after the household had settled for the evening and Rin returned to her room. His eyes were far off, not watching her as she moved about the room, unrolling the bedding from a chest and finally covering the coals of her small lamp.

Rin knelt beside him, and rested her head against his shoulder. His pale hair seemed to glimmer with its own unnatural light.

"You must be easier on him," she said, gazing at his face in the darkness.

His eyes met hers briefly, before he moved them away.

"I cannot afford to be easy on him."

"He seeks your approval."

"If he is not strong, he will not survive."

"He will be strong," she answered gently.

Sesshoumaru said nothing.

She turned her lips against his body, kissing his shoulder. He was still for a moment, then scooped her into his lap. Rin closed her eyes and smiled as she felt his lips pressed against her forehead, then on her mouth, strong and familiar. A warm joy flooded her chest. _He was back home, and she was with him._ All was well, and all would be well.

His lips suddenly stiffened.

She felt the muscles in his body go tense and opened her eyes, pulling back.

"What is it?"

His own eyes were focused and alert. Sesshoumaru sniffed the air again. The scent was there. _Like, and yet unalike._ It was unmistakable. And impossible. _Completely impossible._ Anger, confusion, and disbelief rose in his throat.

Rin rolled off his lap, her face questioning.

He reached for Tenseiga, sliding the sheathed blade against his waist as he stood up.

"Stay in the house until I return." It wasn't a request. He thrust Toukijin into its belt, and without looking back slid the screen open and was gone.

Rin waited, listening, hearing nothing. _What time was it_? She wasn't even sure. She stayed dumbly still for several minutes, unsure of what to do.

Rin rose and slipped out of the room. She hurried down the hallway to where the children slept.

Emi was asleep, the naginata that Sesshoumaru had given her lying on the floor beside her. Rin quietly moved into Kichiro's room. Without waking him, she lay down beside him, listening to the child's even breath rise and fall. She lay awake and curled on the floor, losing track of the passage of time until a subtle graying of the light through a papered wall partition indicated that dawn had begun to seep into the passageway outside. Soon after, she recognized a familiar shuffling against the floorboards.

"Rin-sama?" Jaken nervously slid the screen half-way open.

She sat up. Kichiro raised his head and blinked his eyes sleepily.

"What is it? What's happened?" she asked.

They found the night sentry dead, slumped against the doors of the house. There were no marks of violence on his body, or any signs of struggle. The grass all around was smooth and untrampled. Several yards away, the gate doors of the wall surrounding the house were open – broken and sagging on their hinges. Rin saw no signs of her husband.

"Rin-sama, did Sesshoumaru-sama say where he was going?" Jaken asked hesitantly.

Rin didn't hear him, she was watching Emi and Kichiro standing very still and close together, a few feet ahead of her. The cold morning breeze clutched at the black strands of Emi's loose hair. _This was not like him_. _They had been attacked before and_ – y_es, he had gone off before – sometimes with very little explanation, but never like this._ He didn't let her worry unnecessarily. He told her to stay inside until he returned, _surely that implied that he did not mean to be gone long_._ Something was wrong._

"Do you smell it?" Emi asked her brother quietly.

Kichiro nodded, his face ashen.

"What? What do you smell?" Rin heard her voice growing shrill. She felt shut out, human – missing some essential piece of information that her children already knew. She felt helpless.

Emi turned to her, her eyes very wide.

"It's Father's blood," she said slowly.

_To be continued…_


	4. Chapter Three

Author's Note – This chapter has been about 90 percent finished for months and months—I'm terribly sorry to have kept you waiting so long. Again, I promise not to leave this story unfinished. Thanks to everyone who left reviews! Lots of big developments have happened in the manga since I began this story (the perils of writing fanfiction for an ongoing series). Eventually I'll go back and revise both "Leaving the Past" and this story, but in the meantime, let's everybody just pretend Toukijin is still with us. A lot of time spent with my original characters in this chapter, but fear not, you'll be seeing familiar faces sooner than you think. Thank you all for sticking with me…

Chapter Three

"Mother?"

_Kichiro's voice. _

"Rin-sama?"

_He couldn't be dead. If he were dead, why take his body? Why not attack the house? Besides… he couldn't be dead. _

"Mother?"

"You there!" _Jaken speaking now_. "Scour the countryside and find out if anyone has seen Lord Sesshoumaru!"

"NO!" she finally said out loud.

Everyone turned around to look at Rin.

"No," Rin repeated, "No one leaves. Jaken, no one must tell anyone—not even their families. See to that—keep everyone here, and keep them quiet."

Somehow she knew she had to keep this strange disappearance concealed. A thousand anxieties were crowding into her head, each murmuring and crying to be heard like a throng of terrified voices. Sesshoumaru didn't always tell her what enemies he had fought, what threats to her and their family he had adverted. But she didn't doubt that there was more than one youkai lord that might wish to take his revenge against her and the children if word got out that they were suddenly vulnerable—and unprotected.

_Unprotected._ The implications of the word began to reverberate.

"Mother, what should we do?"

Rin looked at her daughter. _I can't be thinking of myself_ she realized with small shock of reality and admonishment. _I have my own children to protect. _She tried not to think of him injured… dead.

"We're going to wait," she said firmly, trying to inject her voice with some confidence. "Let's wait a few hours—your Father may return at any moment."

The words sounded hollow and fruitless as soon as she spoke them, but she took Kichiro's hand firmly in hers, taking strength in it, and turned to the house. She met Emi's doubtful and defiant gaze with her own.

"We'll wait," she repeated.

Sunset passed, with no word or sign. Rin and Jaken sat across from one another within the main room of the building, cold and untouched bowls of tea sitting before them. Emi was standing quietly at the doorway, her lips pursed and her young face clouded by worry and disapproval. Rin didn't meet her eyes, but held Kichiro tightly in her lap and hugged him closer against her body. His eyes were wide and anxious, but he didn't speak.

Rin looked down at her son, and wondered anew at her child—half-human, half-youkai, his white tail brushing against her sleeve.

_There might be more than one demon that would hunt them out for revenge_, she thought, _but there were hundreds, youkai and human alike, that would kill them for what they were._ _Hanyou_, half-demons, despised. Emi was right—doing nothing only delayed the inevitable. She would have to act.

"Jaken," she finally spoke.

The little imp looked up with surprise.

"Jaken, take Ah-Un. I want you to fly east and –" she paused. If all was well and Sesshoumaru returned home safely the next day he would HATE what she was about to put in motion.

But there was nothing else to be done.

She sighed.

"Fly east, and find Lord Sesshoumaru's brother Inuyasha."

Jaken's jaw dropped, along with his staff.

"Rin! Do you think that Sesshoumaru-sama would want us to –"

"Jaken!" She cried out in frustration, her dark eyes flashing with unaccustomed anger.

"As you command, Rin-sama."

The little demon hadn't seen her brow creased with this much stubbornness since she was a child.

"There was a demon lord—a confrontation that he mentioned. Some moth youkai…"

"Moth youkai?" spat Jaken disdainfully. "Moth youkai defeat our Lord Sesshoumaru?" he asked incredulously.

"It would be a starting point," she answered, doubtfully. Jaken was right—the possibility wasn't likely.

"Mother," Emi interrupted, "we don't need—"

"Inuyasha will know what to do," Rin said firmly.

Jaken bowed a final time, then scuttled out of the room. Emi paused a moment, looking as if she were going to say more, then silently disappeared behind him. Kichiro stood up and looked at questioningly at his mother. Rin nodded to him dumbly, and he hurried after his sister.

Rin found herself alone. She slumped from her kneeling position, half-lying on the ground, staring at the reed matting, one arm supporting her weight.

She hadn't seen Inuyasha or Kagome for several years now, not since Kichiro was still a baby. But she felt certain that he would come to help them. He and Sesshoumaru had never had a warm relationship, but he wouldn't leave his brother's family helpless.

_Either that, or Kagome would make him come_, she fairly considered.

There was a small commotion and sound of movement and discussion from outside in corridor. Rin looked up as Jaken reentered the room, followed by three of the servants. He bowed nervously.

"There's someone here you should see, Rin-sama."

The visitor was a teenage boy, no more than a year or two older than Emi. He was carrying a funny green pack like Kagome used to strap on her back when she visited her era, and the equally odd cap was firmly pulled down on his head. A fringe of dark uneven bangs poked out beneath. Rin recognized Kagome's features and the red fire-rat jacket that he wore before she recognized him.

"Aunt Rin?" he said hesitantly. "My Mom made me come to you. I have to see Sesshoumaru."

"Sesshoumaru-SAMA to you," corrected Jaken.

The boy bristled and shot Jaken a dirty look that implied he recognized him from someone else's description, and not a positive one. He was clearly unhappy being here.

"Akio—" the boy looked up, surprised Rin had known his name so easily, though of course he had been expecting it.

"Akio, what has happened?" She did not want to know the answer.

"My Dad's disappeared," he finally said reluctantly.

Rin felt her last remaining hope alight and flutter away from her. Her stomach began to roll and beneath her silk sleeves she pressed her fingertips deep into the flesh of her arms.

There was very little to tell. At some point Rin was dimly aware of Emi entering the room, staring at her cousin curiously, and Jaken ordering the servants away.

"That's impossible," Rin and Jaken said together as Akio finished. Jaken looked at her, and bowed reluctantly, allowing Rin to continue.

"It's impossible," she repeated. "Naraku was completely destroyed. Jaken was there, he saw it."

"My mom just said it FELT like Naraku," he said uncertainly, "and something else, something very powerful, very holy – but maybe not evil. It could have been what knocked us out when we ran outside. My father's sword is gone, too. Anyway, my mother and Miroku are already searching and we've had help from Shippou the fox demon and Kouga's wolf tribe, but we haven't found any trace of my Dad OR Naraku."

Rin thought about Kagome. It would have to be something very strong that could overcome her miko powers.

"We'll send Jaken first thing tomorrow," she said slowly. "He can take Ah-Un and let Kagome know what has happened here, and she can decide what we should do." _No doubt Kagome would set out to find Inuyasha, and probably Miroku, too. But Sango still had young children… and the village to protect. With Inuyasha gone, their village was suddenly vulnerable as her own home. Still, perhaps the children would be safer with Sango, and she could leave Jaken with them, and then she could join Kagome and Miroku to search for Sesshoumaru. The coincidence was too great—the disappearances had to be connected. _

"You do what you like," Akio answered, "I'm leaving tonight."

"What?" Rin looked up, startled.

"How dare you question Rin-sama!"

"Jaken!" Rin exclaimed impatiently.

"I promised my Mom that I'd go to Sesshoumaru, and since he's not here there's no reason for me to stay. It doesn't make sense for us all to look together—we'll cover more territory separately. I'm going to find my father, and I won't waste anymore time."

Rin was struck by how suddenly like Inuyasha he seemed. She noticed Emi listening to him intently as he spoke, and even Kichiro seemed fascinated by the sudden arrival of his previously-unknown relative.

"Please, Akio, wait until Jaken has brought back the others. Think of how worried your mother would be! It's better for us to work together."

Akio didn't answer her, but finally he seemed to nod and Rin took it for an assent.

"It's settled then."

No one answered her, but both Emi and Akio had similar, guarded expressions as they cast their eyes on the ground, carefully and independently forming their own plans.

It was close to dawn the next morning when Akio carefully crept across the courtyard. Kirara—in her full-demon form—padded silently behind him. He shivered in the darkness, raising an arm to rub his nose when suddenly his foot hit something and he stumbled forward a pace.

He cursed, and turned around to come face to face with the girl who was his cousin. He had noticed her earlier in the room, and recalled a vague and unpleasant childhood memory of a tiny dark-haired girl knocking a much younger version of himself down in a fight over a toy boat. _She was a brat_, Akio thought, and that was about all he could remember. The other kid—the strange hanyou—he had never seen. He saw Kichiro standing behind her, peering at him and then nervously at Kirara.

"We're coming with you," she said, her voice a low whisper.

Emi was wearing white trousers and a clean smock with full white sleeves that peeked from beneath another top—it was still too dark to determine its exact color, but Akio caught the glimmer of embroidered katanas and golden fans, their outlines just visible in the pale darkness. Around her waist she'd cinched a long dark sash with clusters of more golden flowers on each end. She was wearing sturdier boots instead of slippers, and combed her long black hair away from her face. She carried her naginata in one hand, its blade covered with a silk wrap. Kichiro was dressed in the same neat and costly fabrics—a jacket and short pants that stopped above his knees, his small but agile canine legs tapering into delicate white paws that were bright in the darkness. His tail and hair were carefully washed and groomed and glimmered white.

"Dressed like that?" Akio said, his eyes wide. "Where do you think I'm going? To a palace?" He actually grinned at them.

"We're going to find our father," Emi snapped back. She felt her cheeks growing hot. "And WE won't look like common peasants when we do," she added, and looked pointedly at the strange, blue canvas pants her cousin was wearing under the fire-rat robe.

"No way," he answered decisively, ignoring her comments. "It's probably dangerous, and I can't be bothered with looking after kids. How old are you anyway?"

"I'm almost thirteen," Emi answered, carefully holding back her temper. She regretted her momentary childishness a moment ago—it was far wiser to keep her emotions to herself until she knew better who she was dealing with. But having anyone other than her father question her actions was not something she was accustomed to enduring. And the idea of having to stoop to placate anyone—especially a weird and scruffy cousin who had just appeared from nowhere—grated against her very being.

"It's my right to go," she continued quietly and resolutely. "I'm the oldest in my family. I am going out to find my father and his brother, and we can either do it separately or we can do it together."

For a few tense moments, the two older children stared one another down. Kichiro watched them intently.

"Okay," said Akio, relenting. "But this isn't for little kids. YOU can come, but he has to stay here."

For a moment, Emi seemed to waver.

"No!" objected Kichiro angrily.

"He's right," she said, looking at Akio. She hesitated. "I have a very good sense of smell, but his is better. He can follow the scent of our father's blood."

"It's been a full day, is there still any trail to smell?"

Kichiro nodded fervently.

"The wind isn't strong, and it's coming in the right direction. It hasn't carried the scent away," he explained. "That way," he pointed into the West, opposite the direction of the gathering and still covered by thick blue dusk. His sleeve fluttered in the wind.

"Okay," said the older boy, after a moment. "But I'M IN CHARGE," he finished, before Emi could object.

He slung his backpack of supplies over Kirara's back and with a quick jerk readjusted his cap, pulling it resolutely down on his forehead.

"Let's go," he ordered, his arm resting on the demon cat's shoulder and setting forth without a backward glance at either of them.

Kichiro looked up at Emi, waiting to take her lead.

She looked down at him and he saw her swallow—as if she were about to say something to him, and then thought better of it. She nodded almost imperceptibly in the direction of the distant West and, for a fleeting moment, she looked frightened and unsure. Kichiro looked past her toward their house one final time, the line of the sloping roof just beginning to take shape in the grey, pre-dawn light. _Mother would be waking up soon. Mother, Jaken, the poor sentry Emi had just knocked out… _

"Let's go," he heard her say softly. Kichiro turned around and saw her waiting for him, her hand outstretched. He took it, and hand in hand they picked their way across the stony path, moving as quietly and quickly as they could after Akio and Kirara.

_To be continued._


	5. Chapter Four

Author's Note—_Thank you ChildlikeEmpress, purplerebecca and mano for the reviews you left last chapter—it had been such a long time since I'd written anything, and reading them was tremendous encouragement. In other news, I finally joined Live Journal and I am going to try my hand at maintaining an Inuyasha fandom/writing diary. Feel free to stop by and say hello!—the journal link can be accessed through my author bio. New chapter appears below, comments, as always, are sought and welcomed!_

Chapter Four

The first two days out Akio tried to have as little as possible to do with his two strange cousins. To his annoyance they managed to keep up, though he could tell it was harder on the kid. The silence between the two factions was punctuated by curt and thinly disguised sniping between the older two over where, when, and how long they would stop, and by eager updates from Kichiro, who was still picking up a trail on the winds and directing them further and further west, in the direction of the coast.

It was painfully obvious to Akio that the kid was trying his best to make friends with him. It was equally obvious that his sister disapproved of the efforts. She irritated him, and in effort to keep his temper Akio found himself ignoring both of them as much as possible, sitting apart with Kirara during their rests with his cap yanked down on his head, drowning them out whatever ways he could.

Which was what he was trying to do now. They had stopped for a mid-morning rest in a rocky outcrop above a road—wide and observably well-traveled. Scattered pines gave them further shelter on the embankment. Akio huddled with his back against one of the large stones, chewing the last of the dried food he'd packed with him.

"What is that?"

The kid was back at his side again—hesitantly smiling and hopeful.

"iPod," answered Akio, without removing the earbuds. He looked at the younger boy covertly from underneath the cover of his ball cap.

Kichiro studied the object with fascinated eyes, biting his lip to keep from asking further questions.

Akio sighed.

"Here," he said, pulling off the ear pieces and handing the set over to him, "It plays music. Those go in your ears, push that down."

Akio watched as Kichiro cautiously held the two tiny speakers up to either ear, his gold eyes growing larger and his mouth gradually widening into a tiny fanged expression of amazement and delight as he listened. His white dog's tail quivered with excitement.

Akio reluctantly grinned.

"Spin this and it'll play different songs," he instructed, pointing at the wheel.

Kichiro eagerly complied. His tail thumped lightly against the ground.

"Stop it," Akio heard a voice say quietly behind him.

"Stop what?" he asked, turning his head around to Emi.

"You're laughing at him. I saw you." Her voice was very low and cool, and she was looking at him, Akio realized with a jolt, like he had just come out of the backend of a boar.

"I wasn't laughing at him!" he answered heatedly. "Why would I?"

Akio stood up. He knew good and well what she was accusing him of. He'd taken his share of teasing over his youkai heritage, and indignant resentment filled his breast. He certainly wasn't going to take accusations from a spoiled, wannabe princess who'd grown up on a nice sheltered estate that his stuck-up and (according to Dad's account) questionably balanced youkai uncle had probably ripped a lot of throats out to obtain.

"Go ahead—why would I?" he demanded, stepping face to face with her. His eyebrows bristled and their eyes locked angrily.

But to his surprise, she didn't respond. She threw him one final, stony glare and stepped away, nearly stepping on a cat-sized Kirara, who squealed and leaped out of the way. Akio turned back around.

Kichiro was still kneeling and holding the ipod, but his tail had gone still beneath his legs.

With something like shame, Akio realized why. She hadn't wanted to say the thing out loud in front of the kid, hadn't wanted to hurt his feelings. He winced and cursed himself inwardly.

"You shouldn't mind Emi when she gets angry."

The kid was still staring at the ipod, but Akio could tell he was no longer paying it attention.

He felt like an idiot.

"She looks after you, doesn't she?" he answered, dropping down to sit next to him.

"Yes," the boy admitted. He didn't look happy about it. But he also seemed to recognize that he finally had his older cousin's attention, and took advantage of his opening for further conversation.

"Once a boar youkai came to meet Father, and he brought his son with him. His son was about your age."

Akio listened with mild interest.

"They were both full youkai, and when I tried to talk to his son he called me a half-breed, and a dirty hanyou, and then Emi knocked him down and broke one of his tusks. His father the Boar was very angry about it. He almost got into a fight with Chichi-ue."

"Your sister's good at knocking people down," Akio remarked dryly.

"Oh, yes!" Kichiro beamed.

"You know, my Dad's a half-demon, too. He took a lot of crap from people when he was growing up."

"My mother told me he has dog ears." Kichiro grinned shyly.

Akio grinned back.

"Yeah, he does."

"Why do you look so human?"

Akio shrugged.

"I do have these—I'm only a quarter-demon, you know." He held up his hands, and for the first time Kichiro realized his cousin had pointed claws like his own.

"Does anyone ever hate you because of them?"

"Nah, I wouldn't say _hate_," Akio answered, and wondered uncomfortably if that was true. "My parents have lived in that since before I was born, my mom's a miko and my dad protects the villagers from warlords and other demons. Most people always give you a hard time if you're different. Better people get over it once they get to know you. I have a lot of friends my age."

"I wish I had friends my age." The kid didn't seem to be feeling sorry for himself, but matter-of-fact.

"I guess you don't get a lot of visitors at your house."

"No," Kichiro answered.

_He's not a bad kid_, Akio admitted to himself, taking in his cousin's white hair and seeing the similarity to his own father's. He remembered that their mother Rin had once lived with his parents, too. He hoped he hadn't been behaving like _too_ much of jerk the past couple of days, and imagined the lecture his mother would, no doubt, have given him.

"We should get going soon." Emi had reappeared.

"Right," Akio answered her sullenly. She was right, they'd waited long enough. He yawned, stretched and shook his shoulders, then rotated his neck. From the corner of his eye he watched as the kid repeated each of his movements.

Kirara stretched her front quarters, then her back, and transformed into her full-grown form with a small roar of fire and air.

"Did you ever meet Chichi-ue?" Kichiro asked, watching as Akio relaced a tennis shoe before he standing up.

"A couple times, I think. I dunno. I don't really remember."

Kichiro looked shocked.

"I remember you," Emi volunteered, to his surprise. Her clothing was straight and she was ready to go, and she was staring at him with those impassive golden eyes. Akio searched suspiciously for signs of mockery in her voice, but she seemed to be playing it coolly neutral.

"Yeah, well I remember you, too." What Akio couldn't remember is whether or not he had cried when she knocked him down when they were little. He sincerely hoped he hadn't.

"I thought you were a spoiled brat," he added.

To his satisfaction, the pale skin of her nose and cheeks turned an angry pink.

"You had a runny nose and chewed your food like Ah-Un."

"Spoiled brat," he answered.

"Don't think you can call me that!" her eyes flashed and the faint purple stripes on her lower cheeks seemed to turn darker.

Akio smiled, pulled his cap lower on his head, settled back against the stone and closed his eyes. Kichiro looked at Emi's rage-filled countenance, and then nervously back to his cousin.

"Then quit acting like a spoiled brat," Akio said, not opening his eyes.

Emi's eyes narrowed, and half-second later the side of her hand was sailing toward his midsection.

Akio sprang to life.

"Hey, Quiet!" he said, stopping her arm with one hand and holding the other up in a gesture of silence.

"Ill-bred—"

"QUIET!" he hissed.

Emi froze.

From somewhere down the road below them, they heard the sounds of horses approaching in the distance. Akio let go of her arm, spun around and cautiously lifted his head over the stony outcrop.

In the distance on road below, a group of men appeared on horseback. Akio watched for several moments.

"Men—Bandits, by the look of them," he finally said, stooping back down and turning to face them. "We should stay quiet."

"Do you think that they have anything to do with Chichi-ue's disappearance?"

Akio shook his head.

"I doubt it." He quietly and carefully reached for broken branch of pine, and watched as Emi moved with even more swiftness for her naginata, uncovering the blade from its silk as she scanned around them. _Whatever else she was_, he grudgingly acknowledged, _at least she _looked _like she knew what she was doing. For now._

"How many?" she asked in a low voice.

Akio risked another quick glance.

"Twenty, twenty-five."

Tense minutes passed by as Emi and Akio waited quietly, listening to the plodding hoof beats and wheezes of horse and men. Both their attentions were intently focused below.

Kichiro leaned forward on a small group of rocks, still holding Akio's ipod in one hand, resting his weight with the other on the stone before him, trying to peer closer to the top. Kirara mewed a low warning.

There was a _creak_, then a sudden and loud rumble as all three rocks broke loose from the sediment, tumbling Kichiro head over heels behind them down the embankment. He landed hard on the seat of the pants by the edge of the road.

Through the settling dust Kichiro looked up, and into the face of a startled human riding a horse. The man was overweight and large, wearing scavenged armor and a machete on his hip.

All movement stopped. There were angry and confused shouts from further down the caravan.

Kichiro watched with wide eyes as the man's expression turned from one of surprise, into an unsettling and dangerous smile. He reached for a pike strapped upright against his saddle.

_To be continued._

_I realize this installment focused exclusively on my original characters, but never fear, I haven't forgotten about Rin—or a few other familiar faces. New chapter to appear soon! _


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